"What do we do?" Cynder asked, as the ground shivered around them.
The crystal that now held Malefor still glowed, with just part of the massive amount of energy bound up in the planet's core… everything was in pieces…
Spyro was looking around with apprehension, but then it turned to wonder. "I… think I see it," he breathed. "It's – I think you'd have to be a purple dragon to get it right, to even have a chance, but when I'm here like this I can see how it works. It's, uh, there's fire at the core, and earth, and ice and fire on top… and lightning for energy…"
His gaze darted to Cynder's. "I can fix it. But I have to be here… you should go."
"I'm not leaving you," Cynder told him. "Don't argue with me on this, Spyro. Just do it."
Spyro was about to protest, but swallowed and nodded.
He focused, and his wings lit up slightly. Then, just as he took control of the planet itself, Cynder whispered something.
"I love you."
Spyro didn't remember most of what happened after that.
Controlling the planet… fixing the planet… had been an incredible, transcendent experience. Something too amazing to describe… but he didn't truly remember it, either. Just that blazing moment of understanding, and the rightness of it all, then a moment of panic and darkness.
And now, resting on a pebble-grit beach.
"Are you okay?" a familiar voice asked.
"Cynder!" Spyro said, jolting upright. "I was… what happened?"
"I grabbed you," Cynder replied. "When you did… whatever it was… and you started to pass out, I got a good hold and then phased us through the ground with Shadow. It took… less time than it probably should have, but I was exhausted by the time we got to the surface."
Spyro blinked a few times, astonished. "Thanks," he said, then swallowed. "I mean – really. Thanks."
He looked around, seeing a river valley around them with low hills either side. There were taller hills behind them, then taller still, until the largest ones were almost mountains and were lost in the haze.
It was beautiful, but like nothing he'd ever seen before.
"...where are we?"
"I don't know," Cynder admitted. "I didn't really have any idea which way to go, so we could be thousands of miles away from the temple."
"And no idea which way to go," Spyro added, frowning. "I always at least had a start point before… I guess maybe we should just look around and see what we can find?"
"Right," Cynder agreed.
Spyro paused, then, something rising to the tip of his tongue.
"I love you too," he blurted.
Cynder looked embarrassed, but then happy, and Spyro let out an unconscious breath from relief.
"I think… I didn't really realize it until you said it," he went on. "But when you did, it suddenly made sense."
The black dragoness had stepped away, ready to take off, but she came closer again and touched Spyro's muzzle with her own.
"I don't really know how that works," she admitted. "I'm kind of guessing. But… let's find out where we are, together?"
"Together is a good word," Spyro agreed.
They crouched, wings spread, then leaped into the air.
Climbing higher didn't help, not at first… not that Spyro or Cynder had really expected it to. A planet was a really, really big place, something Terrador had taught them both, and you couldn't fly high enough to see all of it at once.
That was something the excitable Volteer had told them from his own personal experience.
As they reached a mile or so in the air, though, Cynder pointed. "Look – over there!"
Spyro banked around, following her gaze, and tilted his head slightly. "Is that a castle?"
He brightened. "Maybe whoever lives there will know where we are… relative to where the temple is, anyway."
"Right!" Cynder agreed. "That's what I thought."
She inhaled, then exhaled a wash of wind that swirled around them both.
"Race you!" she announced, and began flying hard for the castle.
"Hey, wait up!" Spyro called. "You need to say a race is happening before it starts!"
By the time they were getting close, both dragons were more concerned with getting a rest than who had won the race. It had been a very exhausting last few days, and Spyro quite like the idea of being able to settle down and have a nice long nap.
The one he'd had after their adventure in the planet's core didn't count.
"I hope whoever lives here is friendly," he said, drifting a little closer to Cynder so they could talk. "Somehow I forgot to wonder about that before."
"It'll be fine," Cynder assured him. "We'll take care of each other, right?"
Spyro nodded, then looked down at the ground around the castle. There were two large courtyards sunk into the ground, one just ahead of them and the other off to the left of the castle, and he could see a balcony to the right as well which had a strange sparkling whirlpool rising out of it.
"Let's go there," he said, nodding to the balcony, and Cynder slipped back slightly into escort position on his wing.
He circled once, getting lower, then his wings flared and he landed. He nearly stumbled before managing to shed all his speed, and let out a sigh of relief.
"Phew…"
"I know what you mean," Cynder agreed.
"Who's that out there?" a voice demanded. "Flame? Ember? You been runnin' around here again?"
Spyro stepped back, not sure what to think, as a big dragon – a bipedal dragon, with a faint purple colour to his scales and an outsize shepherd's crook, leaned around the door to the castle.
"Um, hello?" Cynder tried. "We're a bit lost, and… do you know where we are?"
"Stone Hill, of course!" the dragon replied. "Now what are you doing here, and why are you all painted up to look different?"
Another big bipedal dragon, this one blue-scaled and with an extravagant tattoo on his right arm, stepped out into the doorway. "Or they could just be new here, Astor," he sighed. "What are your names, you two?"
"I'm Spyro," Spyro introduced himself, and flicked a wing to his right. "And that's Cynder."
"Is he a purple dragon?" Cynder asked, baffled.
"Eh?" Astor said. "'course I'm a purple dragon. What do you think this is, green?"
"I think someone needs to go and get Nestor," the blue dragon decided. "Astor, why don't you go and get Gildas and Lindar, and I'll make these two dragons something hot to drink."
Almost an hour later, there were several more dragons around at Stone Hill.
Spyro and Cynder had been introduced first to Gildas and Lindar, the former a paint-splashed dragon who said he'd been halfway through a portrait when Astor had turned up and the latter a smiling blue dragon with a collection of large watches all over his person.
He'd jumped into the whirlwind pedestal with a jaunty wave, and vanished out of sight in seconds, and then the dragon with the tattoos – Gavin, as he introduced himself – had made them all a hot drink with little floating sweet bits in it.
Spyro liked it a lot. He thought this "coco" stuff was something he could get used to.
It quickly became clear, though, that there were a lot more than four dragons around, and Spyro had a bit of trouble keeping track of them all. There were Tomas and Nestor and Delbin, who were all relatives of the ones they'd met so far (or something – it was a bit hard to follow) and then there was a tough-looking dragon called Titan who was different enough to make make it eye catching.
Then there was Lateef, and Bruno, and Cosmos, and most of the newcomers got involved in a long discussion while Spyro watched.
"I've never seen so many dragons in one place," Cynder said.
"Well, you'll have plenty of dragons to see if you stick around," Gavin told her, rummaging around for something in a nearby cupboard. "How many is it now… I think there's nearly eighty of us."
"Eighty?" Spyro asked, startled to his feet. "Really?"
Gavin paused, actually thinking about it, and began tapping his arm as he counted. "Let's see, now… can't forget old Shoutfire… yes, I count seventy-eight all told."
"Wow," Spyro said, blinking. "I'm just… not really sure how to think about that."
He yawned, then shook his head. "Sorry…"
"It sounds like you've had a long day," Gavin said. "The heads of the five worlds will want to speak to you two, but then we should be able to let you get off to bed."
"Five worlds…" Cynder repeated.
"That's right," Gavin said, splaying his claws this time to count on them. "Artisans, Peace Keepers, Magic Crafters, Beast Makers…"
He flicked his tail up for the fifth. "And Dream Weavers. Stone Hill is part of the Artisan lands, and all the dragons here focus on art."
Spyro looked at Gavin's collection of mugs, then at the flask dangling from his wrist, and the big blue dragon chuckled. "I know what you're thinking. But a good hot drink is an art… speaking of which, here."
He took out a pair of small cupcakes from the cupboard. "Devlin from Town Square made these, and you should have some with your cocoa. Cooking is an art form as well."
It might have been the day he'd had, but Spyro had never tasted anything so wonderful.
"Dragon temple," Cosmo mused, once Spyro had finished. "Hmm."
"Perhaps it is not a temple, but a dojo," Lateef suggested. "And not a dragon, but a dragonfly."
Spyro brightened. "You know dragonflies? Does that mean you know dragonflies called Flash and Nina?"
His tail flicked back and forth. "They're my parents, or, adoptive parents, but they raised me alongside my brother, Sparx. He was a dragonfly."
"Don't know any by that name, kid," Bruno informed him. "Sorry."
Spyro nodded, trying to conceal his disappointment. "I guess it was a bit of a long shot."
"Hey," Cynder said. "Spyro?"
He turned to look, and she gave him a long look.
"It's okay," she reminded him. "We're together, and we'll work this out."
Spyro smiled back in thanks, then returned his attention to the dragon leaders.
"I don't remember the Peace Keepers ever running into any of those apes you mentioned," Titan provided. "So no luck there. Sorry, kid."
"Perhaps we should focus on the things where we can help," Nestor suggested. "Spyro, Cynder, the two of you can stay in any of the Artisan realms as long as you wish."
"Thank you," Cynder said, speaking for both of them this time. "Only… I want to ask. How far away are the other realms?"
"The core of the Artisan lands is around an hour's flight away," Nestor told her. "Town Square is a little further than that, and Dark Hollow is only about ten minutes from the homelands. High Gallery is the furthest."
"The distance is true, and yet an illusion," Lateef said. "Leap into the sky and a portal will take you to a homeland. Jump into a portal and it is like you have leapt into the sky"
Spyro didn't really know what to think of Lateef. He seemed a bit strange, and rather than normal dragon's wings he had wings like a bird… but a bird whose feathers were patterned with the starry night sky.
"A portal?" he repeated, then yawned. "Sorry, it's… uhh… maybe tomorrow?"
"Of course," Nestor agreed, straight away. "You should get to bed, after such a hard day, and we will talk more tomorrow. Lateef, if you would?"
Lateef spread his arms and crossed his legs, rising up to float on his tail alone. "Of course, Nestor. No unquiet sleep will trouble them tonight."
Spyro wondered whether that meant that Dream Weavers was literal, but he was already yawning again.
He managed to push through long enough to get sorted out, curled up with Cynder in one of the castle rooms and with a blanket pulled over them, then dropped straight off to sleep.
"Hey, wake up."
The young dragon grumbled something, hiding his head under his wing.
"I said wake up," his friend insisted, a bit louder this time, and Flame muttered something inaudible before reluctantly lifting his wing and looking up.
The dawn sunlight greeted him, and he winced before hiding his head again. "I thought you were supposed to make sure other dragons got the sleep they needed?"
"That's only when we're actually doing our job," Ember replied. "Anyway, I've been up for hours steering the balloon. You're the one who wanted to get some sleep."
"Yeah, because this was all your idea," Flame pointed out, then shook his head and jumped up to rest his paws on the lip of the balloon basket.
That set it swaying slightly, but it wasn't enough to be a problem, and it meant he could see where they were. They were clearly already into the Artisan lands, with the big main castle visible in the distance, and down below them and getting closer every second was the balloon pier.
"We should probably start heading down, now," he decided. "Argh, five minutes after waking up and I'm already having to drag a balloon around… what made you decide on doing this, again?"
"Aren't you interested?" she said. "Azizi said the reason Lateef left in such a hurry was that there were two new dragons in Stone Hill – young dragons, sort of our age!"
The pink dragoness spread her wings. "I mean, you're not that bad-"
"Thanks," Flame interjected, rolling his eyes.
"-but it'd be nice to have some other dragons around to mess around with," Ember continued.
She glanced down. "Though, um… could you hurry up and bring us in to land? I think we're about to pass over the giant dragon head."
"Never understood why they built that," Flame said, but took the big mooring rope in his paws. "Hey, Magnet, make sure she doesn't crash us or something."
His dragonfly did a loop-the-loop, buzzing agreement as Ember began to protest, and Flame gripped the rope firmly before jumping off.
He may not be able to fly, not yet, but he could certainly flap downwards and that was all they really needed to get a balloon to the ground.
Spyro woke up more rested than he'd been in at least… he couldn't remember how long.
Since before Avalar… before he'd frozen the three of them in time at the Well of Souls… maybe even since they'd left the temple.
He hadn't realized the sheer weight that had been on his mind until now. Maybe it was finally having a night without that pervasive worry that had let him rest…
Stretching, Spyro looked back at Cynder – still asleep, though shifting slightly.
Or maybe it was that they'd been safe together. He didn't know.
"Good morning!" Lindar said, and Cynder jolted awake. Her tail flicked up, the blade ready, and Spyro raised his wing.
"It's okay, Cynder," he told her, using his wing to get her attention.
"Right, right," Cynder realized, blinking a few times and bunking sleep out of her eyes with a paw. Her wings relaxed, and she stopped holding her tail like she was about to attack with it. "Sorry."
"I think I would say I'm the one who should apologize," Lindar told them both.
He inspected one of the clocks festooned about his person. "Well, it's still quite early. I think you should have plenty of time for breakfast, but Nestor and the others wanted to have a longer conversation with you."
"Breakfast sounds good," Cynder contributed. "I think I've mostly been running on gems for way too long."
Lindar gave them an odd look, but shrugged it off.
"Except for the pastries last night," Spyro reminded her.
"Except for those," Cynder agreed, licking her lips slightly.
Ten minutes later, Spyro was learning about eclairs.
They were sort of nice and sweet, a long bun full of cream and with delicious chocolate on top, and Spyro was trying to decide if they were big enough that he should try nibbling bits off or small enough that he could just swallow a whole bite full.
"Thank you so much for this," Cynder said, as Spyro decided to try nibbling to begin with. "We just… appeared out of nowhere, and…"
"You're visitors," Gavin told them both. "Even if you don't decide to stay, that's true."
"We should really get back to the islands… if we can, I mean," Spyro said. "Volteer, Terrador, Cyril… Hunter… Mom and Dad… they're going to be worried about us."
He looked up. "I wish I'd paid attention to how to navigate by the stars, then we might be able to tell where we are."
"I'm not an expert," Gavin mused. "But you overhear a lot when serving drinks. And I think you'd need to know the time back at where you started, to know that."
Spyro was about to reply, but he saw something up in the dawn sky.
"A dragon just… appeared up there, out of nowhere," he said, pointing.
"Oh, didn't you hear?" Gavin asked. "Maybe you didn't. Someone's on the way from the homeland."
He looked up as well, following Spyro's gaze, and frowned. "Oh, hold on. That looks like Flame… and Ember, if I'm not mistaken."
"How can they appear out of nowhere?" Cynder said, putting down her half-finished eclair and watching as the two new arrivals banked around.
"It's how portals work," Gavin told them both. "I'm no Magic Crafter, so I couldn't tell you the details, but the idea is that a portal takes you straight to the sky over where you want to go. And if you take the whirlwind over there-" he pointed, "-then it sends you right back through the portal it's linked to. Saves a lot of time."
Spyro blinked a few times. "Wow… back home it's walking or flying."
The first of the new dragons arrived at that point, stumbling slightly as he hit the ground, and waved. "Morning! These are the new dragons, right?"
The orange-and-yellow dragon stepped closer to Spyro, tilting his head. "His horns look weird."
"Manners of a Gnorc," Gavin chided. "Spyro, Cynder, this is Flame. He's a Magic Crafter."
"That makes it sound like I can actually do it yet," Flame complained. "I'm a Magic Crafter in training. Emphasis on training."
Something purple and glowing zipped out from behind his wings and buzzed, and Spyro blinked.
"What's that?" he asked. "It looks kind of like a dragonfly."
"Huh, you mean Magnet?" Flame asked, glancing sideways. "Yeah, he's my dragonfly… he's not kind of like a dragonfly, he is one."
"The dragonflies I knew had arms," Spyro said.
"Wait, wait, wait wait wait," Flame asked, wings flaring out. "You knew dragonflies with arms? ...you don't have a dragonfly yourself?"
He looked up at Gavin. "Where did they come from?"
"That's a good question," Gavin said. "You might want to wait to ask it until we've got an answer, though."
"We know exactly where we came from," Cynder commented. "We just don't know where we are now."
"But seriously, you don't have a dragonfly?" Flame asked. "That's weird. All dragons have dragonflies."
"And when did you get your own dragonfly, young Flame?" Gildas asked, looking up from his coffee for the first time.
Flame blinked. "...well, yeah, last year, but…"
"Weren't there two dragons flying in?" Cynder interrupted. "Where did the other one go… didn't you call it Ember?"
"Oh, yeah, Ember," Flame realized. "She was actually the one who said we should come here. Where is she, come to think of it…"
Spyro looked around, and nearly missed a pink shape hiding behind one of the tall trees on the upper level.
"Hey, Ember!" Flame shouted. "Come on down!"
Ember edged out from behind the tree, looking nervous and eager at the same time, and swallowed visibly before gliding down to the same level the rest of them were on.
"Eesh, and you'd never know she was the one who jammed me onto a balloon after dusk last night," Flame commented, rolling his eyes. "She's normally way louder than this. And more annoying."
"So…" Cynder began, thinking out loud. "If all dragons here have dragonflies, does that mean that Ember does as well? And so do all of you, uh, older dragons?"
"That's right," Gavin told her. "Frappé doesn't usually come out to deal with customers, but he'll say hello if I ask him. Generally once we're older our dragonflies slow down a bit, but that's getting old for you."
While he was explaining that, Flame's dragonfly Magnet had been inspecting Spyro close-up.
"You knew dragonflies with arms?" he asked, in a buzzing voice which took Spyro a moment to understand. "I kind of want arms."
"Wow, imagine if Sparx spoke like that," Cynder said. "I'd be able to ignore all those comments of his."
"Don't you do that anyway?" Spyro asked.
"It'd make it easier," Cynder said.
As Spyro chuckled at that, Ember finally came over.
"Um…" she began, looking down with her tail coiled around her, then finally looked up slightly. "It's nice to meet you…"
"Yeah, I think she forgot to have breakfast or something," Flame said. "Corda, any idea what's got into her?"
"I can guess," answered a pink dragonfly, doing a flip. "But I think if I said it then Ember would be kind of annoyed-"
"Don't you dare!" Ember demanded, then her eyes widened. "Eep!"
Cynder glanced at Spyro, then back at Ember.
"...I'm not exactly an expert," she began. "But are you shy? About meeting Spyro?"
Spyro blinked. "...you know, that might actually be the first time that's happened."
"What about that time in the mole city?" Cynder asked. "Does that count?"
Spyro waved his wing. "Eh… could be either way?"
At the same time, back at the central Artisan lands, Nestor sat down.
"What do you think, Lateef?" he asked. "You've had a night, but I don't understand how Dream Weavers work."
"There has been time enough," the mystic replied, his starry wings spread. "Time enough to know a little, though not enough to know a lot."
Bruno snorted. "That's clear as mud."
"And yet a fine mud may be baked into porcelain," Lateef said, reprovingly. "Mud is not so unclear as you may think."
He took a pinch of powder from one of his pots, and spread it into the air.
"The two young dragons have faced more trial and stress than many of us," he announced. "And in that I count our lives entire, old traumas all, while their young years bear yet more."
"Dang," Bruno muttered.
Nestor nodded. "I agree with Bruno, that is troubling. Did you get any sense of what?"
"Beyond the words they said, there was but little to use to tell," Lateef said, after considering. "But there was loss – deep loss, for Spyro. And guilt, for Cynder, of things she did and things she regrets. And a little of Spyro's loss was Cynder's work, but not her fault, and she regrets it nevertheless."
"It's making my wings itch," Titan said, flexing his hands slightly. "That kind of thing happening to young dragons is exactly the sort of thing the Peace Keepers should prevent… I know we couldn't have helped, but I still want to keep them from facing it again."
He pointed at Lateef. "And you'd better make sure they get the comfort they need!"
"I think perhaps that is more my speed," Nestor suggested.
He spread a wing, indicating the whole of the Artisan lands. "I was already inclined to suggest that Spyro and Cynder stay here, with us, until we can find some way for them to get back home. Being with their families and the people they left behind would be better, perhaps, and I would not want to keep them from what they truly want."
"I will put all my efforts into scrying their land of origin," Cosmo promised. "Andromeda, make a note."
His dragonfly made an affirmative buzz.
"What I think is, little ones like that don't know how to slow down," Bruno mused. "They can't cope, not really, but they feel like doing anything less than all they can do is wrong. So they burn out."
"We don't know that," Nestor said, frowning. "If Spyro's account is correct, then doing anything less than all they could do would mean the doom of the world."
He tapped his tail with his hammer, thinking. "You are right, though. We have been at peace for many long years, but I will try to make it clear that that is the case. We do not require two more defenders, especially ones so young who should be relaxing."
"That said, I'd feel more comfortable if we knew they were safer," Titan admitted. "From what they both said, they know how to defend themselves, but keeping dragons safer is my job."
"Hmmm…" Bruno said, fiddling with one of the teeth he kept on a necklace. "I think there's something we could do."
"Ah," Lateef said, with an enigmatic smile. "Double their wings and safety flies with them both."
"...yeah," Bruno mumbled. "No, wait, hold on… right, yeah, I get what you mean. And there is only one…"
He looked puzzled. "How did you know that?"
"There are many things that are clear, to those with eyes to see," Lateef pronounced.
Nestor concealed a smile.
Spyro looked at the whirlwind pedestal in front of them, tilting his head a little.
"Um… are you sure we have to do this?" he asked. "It just seems kind of… sketchy."
"It just sends you up in the air," Flame told him. "I don't get why you're freaked about it, you at least can fly properly. Even though I'm a dragon, I might theoretically get hurt if I messed up."
He shrugged his wings. "Of course, the portal's going to catch you."
"That's actually what I find strange," Spyro replied, stepping back a little and looking up. "I don't see it… and I haven't exactly had good experiences with portals."
"It's not that big of a deal," Flame replied, tail flicking from side to side.
He nodded towards the pedestal. "The way it works is, when you get on and get flung up in the air, it triggers the linked portal and you can just fly right through. It usually puts it close enough you can get there in four or five seconds, though I guess if you weren't a dragon you might need it tweaked or something."
Cynder stepped closer, giving the whole thing a dubious look. "And this isn't going to open into Convexity, is it?"
"Con-wha?" Flame said, sounding baffled. "No, it's to the grounds of the main Artisan castle. Look, I'll go first if you want."
Spyro exchanged a glance with Cynder, then stepped forwards. "No, I'll go."
"Suit yourself, I guess," Flame told him. "Just remember, you'll come out of the portal on the other side at the same height you go into this one, compared to the portal boundaries. So if you go in near the top you'll come out near the top. It's, whatsit, intuitive."
The purple dragon nodded, then jumped with a flutter of wings and entered the stream of whirling stars.
Immediately he went soaring upwards, caught by a current of magical air so strong that he turned halfway through a circle. Stone Hill dropped away below him in moments, and he rode it until it faded away – then looked around for whatever the portal Flame had mentioned would look like.
It took a moment, but then there it was. Like the view through a doorway into a different room, but without the actual wall or door there – there was just the threshold.
Spyro banked slightly, beat his wings twice, and went through.
"There we go!" Flame said. "See? It's easy."
"Yeah," Ember agreed. "And it's much quicker than waiting for a balloon. Especially if Flame's in it as well."
"Hey, where was this five minutes ago?" Flame demanded. "Did you have some coffee while I wasn't looking, or something?"
While they bickered – and Flame was right, Ember was a lot more lively now – Cynder stepped forwards a little, and held her forepaw in the stream of magic.
Something about it whispered to her, and she closed her eyes to feel the stream of wind over her scales.
In, and out…
Cynder was probably only there for about ten seconds before she blinked and refocused, but it had been surprisingly… relaxing.
Peaceful.
There hadn't been enough of that in her life.
"So, uh, are you going to go up there, or are you planning on sticking around?" Flame asked.
Cynder replied by putting her other forepaw on the pedestal side, raising her wings, then jumping straight up and letting the wind catch her.
When Cynder landed on the other side of her own portal trip, wings flaring as she stopped herself before crashing into something, she was met by Spyro and a large, cheerful, blue dragon wearing an apron and holding an enormous cake.
"It's lovely to meet you both!" the dragon announced. "Cake?"
"Umm…" Cynder began, staring at the confection that probably weighed twice what she did.
"This is the dragon who made those pastries Gavin was sharing," Spyro explained. "His name's Devlin. Apparently he heard about us and got inspired?"
"And this must be Cynder," Devlin said, then visibly realized he was holding out a giant purple-and-black cake and put it down. "Oh, silly me, I'll cut you a slice."
"Thank you, Devlin," Nestor said, getting the attention of all three of them. "Spyro, Cynder, if you don't mind we'd like to hear a little more about where you came from and what you've been doing."
"I think that's okay," Spyro agreed. "There are some things that I'm not sure I can tell, though… at least, not without asking."
Nestor nodded, understanding.
"As for that," he added. "We are going to do our best to get you home, but I don't want to mislead you… I do not know how long it will take, and I suspect it may take a long time. What I said last night remains true, though – you may stay here as long as you wish."
The portal to Stone Hill flashed, and Ember came through. She took one look at the crowd where she'd landed, mumbled something, and tried to hide behind a wing.
Flame appeared a moment later. "...cheating!" he said, apparently the end of a conversation he'd been having back in Stone Hill, and landed next to Ember. "Told you, it doesn't count as a race if you say it's one after you've already started!"
When he got no response, he shrugged, then looked at the others.
His expression lit up. "...hey, is that a cake?"
"So… we didn't know all of this at the time," Spyro said, looking up at the leaders of the Dragon Realms.
They were standing back, far enough that he didn't feel crowded, but it still made him a little nervous. Not because of them, because they'd been really nice, but just… talking about all this.
"I'll do the really simple version and then go back to give more details," he added. "So, it kind of starts with a purple dragon called Malefor, who turned evil, and tried to take over the world or destroy the world, or maybe both at different times."
Spyro thumped his tail on the floor. "He had an army, and they attacked the dragon temple to try and find my egg, because I'm another purple dragon and we can do things other dragons can't. He kidnapped Cynder and corrupted her when she was young, making her a fully grown dragoness who had to obey his orders, and Ignitus-"
Remembering the reddish fire dragon made Spyro's voice catch, and he swallowed before shaking his head. "He hid my egg away, and I was raised by dragonflies until my powers started coming in. Then I helped Ignitus rescue three other temple guardians – Volteer, Cyril and Terrador – then had to rescue Ignitus himself, because Cynder was taking their powers to open a gateway into Malefor's prison."
"He was trapped in Convexity," Cynder supplied, softly. "He could give orders, but his army was what did most of his work. Then Spyro stopped me."
Spyro nodded. "And that made Cynder turn back, and… well, I saved her, but doing it made my powers burn out. Then we lived in the temple for a few months, until…"
He thought about how to put it, and decided to give the simple explanation at first. "The temple was attacked again, and we were separated. I went looking for Cynder, and slowly got my powers back, but I found that Malefor's army were going to bring him back, and I went to stop it."
"I was already there by then," Cynder said. "I… I'd rather talk about it later."
"Of course," Nestor agreed. "Spyro?"
"We tried to stop it," Spyro told him. "I… don't think we ever found out how well we did, but when the cavern we were in collapsed I froze us all in time – Cynder, me, and my brother Sparx. We didn't get out until maybe a year or so later, when Malefor was launching a full invasion. He attacked the Valley of Avalar where the cheetahs live, and he attacked the city of the moles… before there'd been his ape soldiers everywhere, but now it was much worse."
"We tried our best," Cynder said, looking downcast. "We really did, but Malefor's plans were so… we nearly stopped his monster called the Destroyer, but it finished a magical ritual and started setting the world on fire. Ignitus got us into the burned lands to try and stop Malefor, but he… didn't make it."
Spyro swallowed, hard.
"I always thought he might be my father," he admitted, in a small voice. "I was never sure, but… I realized after he was gone that I'd never even asked."
He opened his wings, then folded them back again with careful precision. "And… we got through the burned lands, and fought Malefor, and we managed to stop him. But he broke the world, and I put it back together. That's about all I remember."
For several long seconds, there was silence.
"I think," Nestor said, stressing the word, "that I may need to get some of the other Artisans here to take notes."
Going through the whole story, with Spyro explaining everything that had happened and Cynder filling in where she could – sometimes with details that Spyro had never heard before – took up most of the morning.
It was also the most difficult thing Spyro had ever done. And the most exhausting… and, at the same time, it left him strangely lighter.
"And, well… you heard this bit before," he said, reaching the conclusion. "I put the world back together, and Cynder grabbed me, and… then I woke up not far from Stone Hill."
Two dragons from Dark Hollow had been taking notes, and the scratching of their pens carried on for another few seconds before dying away.
"Thank you, Spyro," Nestor said. "And thank you, Cynder. I know that was hard for you."
Cynder nodded, swallowing slightly, and Spyro spread his wing over her slightly. Just enough so she knew it was there.
"I have a question, kid," Bruno began. "You said that Ignitus knew you were a purple dragon before you hatched?"
"Yes," Spyro confirmed. "I… think he said my egg was purple, and that's how he knew."
"Huh," the Beast Maker said, considering. "That doesn't normally happen… maybe that's just something different about your type of dragon."
"It's not," Cynder said, raising her head. "When I… when Malefor was… I was told that I should look out especially for a purple dragon egg, in case I saw one, but my own egg was black. Dragon eggs are the same colour as the dragon that hatches from them."
Bruno glanced over at Cosmo. "Any thoughts?"
"I would think that would be your area of expertise," Cosmo said, twirling his staff.
"All right, eesh, don't act like an attack frog," Bruno grumbled. "I'm not sure how the difference has come about, but… I think the dragons from where you're from are a different sort of dragon to the ones from what we call the Dragon Realms. Dragons who breathe fire are the overwhelming majority here and it's rare to see any others… kind of hard to think of one, actually."
Spyro thought about that for a long moment.
"You're still dragons," he said. "And you've been nothing but kind to us. I…"
He stopped, trying to marshal his thoughts so he could say what he meant to say.
"I think we're a long way from home," he said. "And part of me wants to leave so that we can find our home again, but I know that there's no way to even start moving in the right direction."
Cynder moved. "And… I don't think I've known what home means, not for a long time. Maybe ever."
"Right," Spyro agreed. "So… what we're saying is, I think we want to stay here. If that's possible."
"I should say it is," Nestor told them immediately. "Spyro, Cynder… we will be happy to have you."
"And there's something else," Bruno said, full of enthusiasm. "Isaak got here just half an hour ago."
He gestured, and another dragon – this one a Beast Maker like Bruno, at least as far as Spyro could tell – stepped forwards. He had a strange staff, and a harness decorated with purple feathers, and there was a small spark of golden light balanced on one horn.
"It's good to meet you," he said, and reached up with his free hand to the spark. It buzzed, jumping from his horn to his finger, and he lowered it down so they could see.
It was a dragonfly.
"There was one more dragonfly than there were dragons, last time," Bruno explained. "Of course, there were only a couple of dragons! But it'd make us all feel better if you had a dragonfly to watch over you."
Spyro frowned, uncomfortable with the idea.
The golden dragonfly wasn't his brother, and didn't look the same, but he still didn't like the idea of replacing Sparx.
Cynder glanced at him, then spoke up. "Do they have a name?"
"Nope!" the dragonfly buzzed, and did a loop-the-loop. "Any suggestions?"
"Not Sparx," Spyro insisted.
The dragonfly waggled his antennae. "Weird way to do it, but whatever. Going to go through all the names you're skipping?"
"I think I've got an idea," Cynder said. "What about Flicker?"
After meeting Flicker, who'd spent about twenty minutes muttering the name to himself before suddenly deciding that it was perfect, the two of them were introduced to all of the other Artisan dragons and taken on a whirlwind tour of the Artisan lands.
Every land so far was different, and pleasant in a different way, and Spyro could really see the benefits of the way these dragons did things. High Gallery was atop a mountain, a cool place to go in summer and somewhere to go to just… fly, with the wind in your wings.
Cynder clearly liked it there, which made Spyro feel happy just by association.
Then Dark Hollow was almost the opposite. It was quiet, and calm, and dark, and it was where the Artisans kept an extensive library.
Both young dragons could read, a little, but not fast or well, and the moment he heard about that Oswin decided that they'd have to learn… and that he'd be happy to read for them, as well, until they'd had the chance to learn.
Town Square was different again, a collection of buildings in the middle of a broad lake. Most of the Artisan dragons had a house there even if they lived somewhere else, and Alvar said that there'd be one ready for the two of them within a day or so.
Spyro thought it was nice that it was going to be one house for the two of them. They'd have different bedrooms, in case they wanted to sleep apart, but… Spyro didn't think that was going to be likely, somehow.
And finally, there was Sunny Flight.
"These places are great!" Flame announced, weaving around both Spyro and Cynder. "There's this enchantment on the entry portal that's specially designed for young dragons, so they can fly properly even if they couldn't normally!"
He did a roll. "Only problem is, uh, it doesn't last all that long. But there's a couple of fairies around who can pick you up and take you to the whirlwind if you leave it too long. Anyway, it's kind of like an obstacle course."
"So a flying challenge, right?" Cynder asked, beating her wings and accelerating slightly.
"Right!" Flame agreed. "For this one there's four targets – arches, chests, barrels and planes. The arches you need to fly through, but the other three you just need to touch with your flame – or, uh, whatever you have instead of flame, I… guess?"
He shook his head. "Whatever. Once you get all the targets, you've finished! And it's great fun!"
Cynder glanced at Spyro, and smirked.
"Ladies first!" she announced, and surged forward suddenly.
"Hey, wait up!" Spyro demanded, but Cynder was every bit as fast as him and she'd got the jump. She zipped towards the first target – a train carrying two barrels – and spat out a jet of wind at the barrels as she went past.
"Oh, cool, it does work!" Flame said.
Cynder was already following the train track around for the next pair of barrels.
After they'd spent a full hour in the Speedway – Cynder had managed to set and keep a record Spyro couldn't quite reach, though both of them had beaten their previous times at least thrice – both the young dragons were panting by the side of the river, just outside the portal to Sunny Flight.
Flicker was there as well, buzzing around a fruity drink Argus had brought him, and Flame was upside down with his wings dangling in the water.
"I can not keep up with you two," he said, sighing. "Ahh… I really needed that."
"I can't save your wings, you know!" Magnet buzzed.
"Yeah, yeah," Flame waved off. "You two must have got a lot of practice at that stuff."
"Mostly flying away from terrifying things," Spyro said.
Cynder snorted. "Or flying towards them."
"Or that," Spyro admitted.
Flame rolled over, flapping his wings to shake the water off, then tilted his head.
"Hey, so here's something I was wondering," he said. "Where you're from, how many dragonesses are there?"
Spyro blinked, tilting his head, as he really thought about that question for the first time.
Now that he considered it, he'd only met one dragoness here. All the other dragons in the Dragon Realms were male. And Cynder was the only one he'd known before then.
"I… well, I only really knew five dragons, back home," he admitted. "Six if you count Malefor. But Cynder's the only dragoness among them."
"There were more dragonesses than that," Cynder said, her eyes focused on something far away and long ago. "I… hope that most of them fled."
"Ouch, sorry," Flame said, raising his paws. "I was just thinking, because there's nearly eighty dragons in the Realms, and the only two girls are Ember and Mrs. Shoutfire."
He shrugged. "I asked one of the Beast Makers once, and I… well, I didn't understand the answer, but apparently it's a coincidence or something."
The orange-red dragon glanced between Spyro and Cynder, then scratched his neck. "So! Any idea what you two are going to do for a hobby, or whatever? I kind of have fun tweaking the Supercharge ramps back home, but I'm also learning how to do enchantment stuff with Altair in Windy Mountain."
"A hobby?" Spyro repeated, considering. "Um… well…"
He thought about it, and blew a little stream of fire out of his muzzle.
It was weaker than it had been in the past, but he'd been glad to see his powers hadn't completely burned out. Again.
"...maybe I should learn to cook, actually?" he said. "Or bake, or… I don't know, whichever of those things I can, really. It's been so tasty to try that stuff."
"There you go, then!" Flare announced. "And, hmm, Cynder… well, I guess you'll want to stay around Spyro, know what I mean?"
He did something amazing with his eyebrow ridges, and both Spyro and Cynder stared at him in bafflement.
There was a faint 'hmph!' from the hedge maze, and all three dragons looked over just in time to see Ember squeak and duck out of sight.
"Girls," Flame summarized.
"Hey, watch it," Cynder said, then considered. "I… don't know, really. I suppose flying doesn't count?"
"Nah, not really, not with Artisans," Flame said, with the certainty of a young dragon very sure what his elders did to pass the time. "It's all about making arts and crafts, things like that… hey, you could use that tail to carve wood? I think Nils does sculpture stuff, and obviously Nestor makes things with wood but they're more like… you know, chairs…"
Flicker buzzed over to the tail in question. "And I can make sure it doesn't get sore! That's the kind of thing a dragonfly does!"
"Hey, ssh," Magnet stage-whispered. "You'll make them realize we can do that."
"It doesn't get sore," Cynder said, quietly, but she was already thinking.
The idea of actually making something… of being able to sit down after some hard work, and look at a thing she'd made, and know that she was responsible for it… and that it was a good thing…
It was something that the black dragoness suddenly found powerfully interesting.
"So, I know what you do," Spyro said, then. "But what about Ember?"
"Oh, she does…" Flame began, then paused. "Uh… Dream Weaver stuff? Making sure dreams don't escape? I don't know, I'm not a dreamatologist."
Spyro took a deep breath, feeling for the flame at his heart, and exhaled.
It was a new way of using his powers. Instead of a powerful gout of flame, intended to be as hot as possible and focused into as short a time as possible, he had to aim for the heat to be as steady and even as possible.
He didn't have to keep it up for the whole time his creation was in the oven, but he did have to refresh it every minute or so – the metal sides of the oven heating up and then letting the heat out again, to warm the creation inside.
There was sticky dough on his paws and between his claws, layered into his scales, and spatters of sugar and eggs had ended up everywhere. There was even a bit of milk on his wing, and Spyro didn't know how that had happened.
"Once more, I think," Devlin told him. "Then leave it a minute, and they should be ready to come out."
"How do you know?" Spyro asked, before flaming the oven one last time.
"Experience, Sypro," Devlin smiled. "It's part of the baker's art."
Spyro turned, trying not to tread flour everywhere. "But I've been doing this for a month now, and I don't seem to be getting much better."
"That's because you've been doing something new every day," Devlin smiled. "And you have been getting better, you know. I remember when you started out."
That did sound familiar, actually… Spyro winced at the reminder. Devlin had found it hilarious, but when Spyro had sneezed and blown up the entire gathered set of ingredients for a chocolate cake in a delicious-smelling but sadly inedible explosion…
Cynder had laughed herself sick.
And then enjoyed the cake when they actually baked it.
Smiling at the memory, Spyro stepped back as he counted down in his head. "So… they're ready now?"
Devlin nodded, and Spyro opened the door of the oven.
Inside was a tray of half a dozen large scones, just lightly browning, and Spyro put them onto a wire rack to cool down properly.
"That should make for a lovely addition to lunch," Devlin said. "Well done, Spyro."
"Thanks!" Spyro replied. "Do you need me for the washing up?"
"I think I can manage myself," Devlin told him, and Spyro brightened.
"Thanks – I'm going to go see how Cynder's doing… er, actually, I'm going to wash in the lake and then see how Cynder's doing…"
"Probably for the best," Devlin told him.
Cynder's tail rose up like a scorpion's, ready to strike. The metallic blade glittered, and she focused carefully on her target before whipping it out.
There was a thock, and chips of granite went flying.
"Good, but a little energetic," Nils told her.
"It was energetic because I wanted to get rid of a large amount of material," Cynder explained.
"In that case, good," Nils amended. "Where will you strike next?"
Cynder considered, pacing around the half-shaped block of granite.
"I think I'm going to need to work here," she said, picking up a piece of chalk and marking a surface. "And it's going to need me to use my claws, for better detail."
"Quite correct," the sculptor told her.
Cynder reared up, supporting herself with one forepaw on the statue, and got to work on the curves of the shape.
She was trying to make a rendition of Hunter's falcon, the first time she'd been making something herself, and Thor had helped her make a little clay model to hash out what the shape should be. Now she was scoring away little bits of granite, ready to begin work on the feathers before long, and she lost herself in the rhythm of the work.
The idea of actually making something for herself, something that wasn't destructive or urgent but just relaxing and beautiful… it was a nice one.
"So after I've got the shape about right, I polish it, right?" she checked.
"Indeed you do," Nils agreed. "So don't take off anything you feel you might need later!"
Cynder was about to move on, but a familiar voice interrupted her. "Hey, Cynder!"
"Spyro!" she said, turning. "How's it going?"
She glanced at Flicker. "I guess he's still gold, so you didn't have to deal with an explosion."
"One time," Spyro said, shaking his head and then shaking water off his wings. "It happened only one time, Cynder."
"I don't think I've ever blown up lunch," Cynder replied.
"Oh, that reminds me," Spyro said. "Flicker, Cynder, what kind of jam do you like? I made scones."
Cynder paused to think about that, and realized with a kind of lurch that that was a question she could answer… after thinking about it.
She'd never had jam before arriving in the Artisan Lands.
"Apricot!" Flicker buzzed.
"I'll try, um, raspberry?" Cynder decided. "I think I liked that one best."
"Great!" Spyro smiled. "That's not going to be for half an hour or so, though, so… I guess I'll just sit here and watch?"
"It's going to be kind of boring," Cynder told him.
"That's fine," Spyro assured her. "I won't mind."
AN:
So I started a new thing.
In case it's not totally clear, this Spyro we're following is the only Spyro in the fic. There is not a TOS Spyro also around somewhere.
